Here's to the Losers
by MeghanReviews
Summary: A version you've never read of the Triwizard Tournament: Harry makes his own rules. COMPLETED
1. I Did it My Way and Other Life Lessons

**Here's to the Losers**

_A version you've never read of the Triwizard Tournament._

**Chapter 1: I Did it My Way and Other Life Lessons**

"I didn't put my name in that cup," Harry snarled at Ron, who was as usual being a prat. "I don't want eternal glory."

Eternal glory is what Ron wanted, not Harry. What Harry wanted was his family back and since they were dead it was unlikely to ever happen, despite the many insistences on Voldemort's behalf to the contrary.

"If you didn't, then who did?" Ron demanded, looking petulant and mean simultaneously which was a feat usually pulled off by Draco.

"I don't know!" Harry shouted. "Voldemort, perhaps! He's been behind every other terrible thing in my life, why not this too?"

The mean look slid from Ron's face, leaving him looking like a pouty four year old. "Saying, I believed you, how could You-Know-Who enter you into the Goblet of Fire? It's impossible."

Hermione chose this moment to butt in. "Not impossible as clearly Harry is in the tournament, though I don't see how he could have gotten past Dumbledore."

"Why not? He snuck in on the back of Quirrel's head, didn't he?" Harry said.

"Do you think that trick would work again? I would think Dumbledore would plan for it and be prepared. He is after all the greatest wizard since Merlin."

Harry scoffed. "With as much foresight as any other wizard, Hermione, excepting of course Trelawney and she's a crazy old bat with very few true predictions."

Hermione frowned. "Then perhaps somebody on his orders put you into the Goblet of Fire?"

"That's my guess," Harry said. "There's got to be a reason why loads of Death Eaters showed up at the Quidditch Cup this year and my guess is because they know something we do not. If Voldemort isn't back in action, he soon will be."

"Crickey, mate," Ron gulped. "Somebody on Voldemort's orders want you dead."

"So you believe me now?" Harry demanded, glowering at his best friend.

"It makes sense, and it is you we're talking about."

Hermione, still frowning, looked at the two boys. "What are you going to do Harry?"

"Barty Crouch says I have to compete because it's a binding magical contract, but I don't see how magical kitchenware can force me to compete."

"Oh Harry, you must," Hermione insisted. "I've read all about magical contracts. They're legal and binding and one constructed through an magical artifact as powerful and as old as the Goblet of Fire would have serious consequences of not fulfilling it. Probably not death, but you might lose your magic."

"A squib!" Ron gasped. "You've got to be kidding, Hermione. Why would they allow something like that in the school?"

"Because you ninny, they thought they were taking precautions with the age line and students personally submitting their name and only their name. Dumbledore drew the line himself!"

"A lot of good that did! I'm in the bloody tournament, Hermione," Harry growled. "Somebody must have done exactly what Professor Moody said—hoodwinked the Goblet with an extremely powerful confundus charm."

"Well that rules out Draco and his cronies then," Ron said with a laugh. "They couldn't spell their way out of a jumper."

"It's magic way beyond anything taught at Hogwarts… not the confudus bit, but the channeling of that much of your magical core to do something like that."

"No students then, but we kind of figured that out already, Hermione. Voldemort, remember? It's got to be a teacher. My money is on Snape. He used to be a Death Eater."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You always think it's Snape."

"Who else?"

"There's three new teachers this year, Harry. My guess it's one of them. It's almost always the new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts, yes? Why not Professor Moody? He even shared how he did it."

"Moody? You're dead wrong about him," Ron declared, crossing his arms. "He's the greatest dark wizard catcher ever to grace the Aurors. He's the reason I want to be one when I graduate."

"You have a career goal in mind?" Hermione asked, blinking owlishly at him. "Why I never thought I'd see the day."

Ron blushed scarlet. "It's that or Professional Quidditch Keeper."

"That sounds more like you," Hermione said, somewhat calmer.

"You said three teachers, Hermione," Harry reminded her, bringing the two back on track. "Who are the others?"

"The Heads of the other schools - Igor Karkaroff and Olympe Maxime."

"I can see Karkaroff, but Maxime is too tall to do anything discretely, ever. If it was her then someone would have seen," Ron mused.

"Both were very angry that I was called by the Goblet to compete. They thought Hogwarts was cheating."

Hermione shrugged. "Smokescreen. What if they were trying to fool you into thinking they were innocent?"

"Smokescreen?"

"Muggle military term," Hermione explained. "It means to mask something, like troop movement."

"Let's recap," Harry began quietly, counting off on his fingers. "Somebody put my name into the Goblet. Somebody possibly acting on Voldemort's orders. If so they are probably a Death Eater, previously known or unknown. Our best guesses are the three new teachers, Moody, Karkaroff, and Maxime, and then of course, Snape. I know you don't think he's the one behind everything, Hermione, but we are sure he was once a Death Eater. That's fact. We know I have to compete or risk the epithet, Boy-Who-Became-A-Squib. The first task is unknown and I must compete against three seventh years, who can reasonably said to be the best of the best from their schools. I have about as much chance as winning this tournament as I do surviving it. I can't possibly match any of them. What the hell am I going to do?"

* * *

"What do you mean," Fred began.

"-Not Compete?" George finished.

The Weasley twins stared at Harry in compete bewilderment and shock.

"Just what I said," Harry repeated. "I will show up, because I am forced to, but I won't raise a finger to try to win. I'll take zeroes across the board for my score rather than risk life and limb."

"But we bet on you just the other day with Bagman."

"You have to try or we're going to lose everything! Mum will kill us for sure."

"Then change your bet, if you still can, or take the loss, guys, because not even for you will I fight a dragon today."

"Dragons are easy, mate," Fred started, looking imploringly at George.

"Right, easy, Charlie deals with them all the time."

"Then Charlie can try to steal an egg from a nesting dragon mother. I am perfectly content losing. I never wanted eternal glory."

"But you're a Gryffindor!"

"You can't just sit out, you've got to bring glory and honor to Gryffindor!"

Fred nodded enthusiastically. "Right and Hogwarts too."

"Cedric Diggory is Hogwarts true champion. I've even got the button to prove it." Harry pressed his and it switched to _Potter, Stinks._

"You can't let Draco get to you, Harry, he's just a stinking Slytherin."

"Hogwarts will be fine without me, and you will be too."

"You're a real pal, Harry."

"You'd think you'd do this for us because we gave you—"

"—the Marauders Map from the goodness of our hearts."

"I could introduce you to two of the original Marauders before the semester is out or return the map if it means clearing that little debt."

"You're—"

"Bloody—"

"Joking—"

"Us—"

"I swear I'm not. You've even met one without realizing it, you know."

"WHO?" they shouted together.

"Professor Lupin is Moony."

"And we let him get right through our fingers," George bemoaned.

"Who's the other?" Fred asked, eager to learn the other identity.

"Sirius Black, my godfather. He's Padfoot."

"Wait, does that—"

"Mean that—"

"Your dad—"

"Was another?"

Harry nodded. "Prongs. Before you ask the last betrayed my parents to Voldemort and no I don't want to talk about it."

"You're the son of Prongs?" George whispered in awe.

"Yes, George, we're in the presence of Prongs Jr." Fred confirmed before turning to Harry. "We're going to hold you to your promise. Good luck with losing the tournament."

"Lupin is probably in the stands. My godfather probably not, with dementors and the Ministry of Magic and dark wizard catchers trying to find him."

"We'll see you after the first task, then."

"Deal."

* * *

When the gong rang for Harry's turn to face his dragon, he stood reluctantly and ducked through the tent opening. The crowd was loud and noisy, the decibel volume earsplitting. Harry distantly noted how tiny the Gryffindor crowd supporting him was compared to the massive presence of icy blue for Fleur, blood red for Viktor, and sunshine yellow for Cedric.

The Hungarian Horntail was eyeing him shrewdly and Harry felt years of his life run away in sheer terror. That thing was scarier than the Basilisk he faced in second year. If only Fawkes would bring him the Sorting Hat and he might contemplate actually competing.

Why scarier than a Basilisk? Because of the dragon's huge advantage that the Basilisk didn't have…long tongues of wicked flame shooting out its mouth. Harry didn't fancy being served up on a platter. For one thing he didn't bring the catsup.

Ludo Bagman was narrating his non-movements with so much fervor Harry wondered how on earth he managed it as there was nothing to talk about.

"One must wonder what Harry is thinking. Is the youngest champion scared beyond thought? That would explain his just standing there while the clock ticks down."

Harry cast a sonorous on himself and answered Bagman. "Actually, I'm doing this on purpose. I have no intentions of doing something so stupid as facing a Hungarian Horntail or in fact any real dragon. Professor Snape might think I have a death wish, but far from it. The only times I fight against things much stronger than myself is when there's no other choice."

The crowd was so quiet one of Luna Lovegood's invisible Crumple-Horned Snorkacks could have sneezed and people would swear to have heard it.

Bagman was aghast. "You don't mean to just stand there the whole time do you?"

"That's exactly what I mean to do until the time runs out."

Bagman started to sweat. "But you're the Boy-Who-Lived, you can't just not compete."

"How do you think I stay that way? It's not because I go up against a nesting mother of the deadliest types of dragons. That would land me in the hospital wing and frankly I spend too much time there. Madam Pomfrey would agree."

"What about the egg? You will need it for the second task. Without it you will be at an extreme disadvantage."

"I already am. Fourth year, remember? The others have three years on me and are the best their respective schools can offer."

"You must do something, it's in the magical contract!"

"Oh I must, must I?" Harry replied walking toward the judges stand, and conveniently away from the dragon, who settled down seeing that Harry wasn't a threat. "Then I believe this will count…"

He bowed to the judges and stood straight again. "Good afternoon judges. Please let me explain what it is I am doing today for the first task. I am taking a knee. That's an American Muggle football term for preserving a lead. Yes, I realize that at this point I do not have a lead, but you might begin to see things my way when I share with you my argument for not competing against a dragon in a game of wits.

"Hogwarts' motto is _Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus._ While the Hungarian Horntail is not in fact sleeping, the point is the same. One must never enrage a dragon for the purpose of sport. This applies not only for this tournament, but also in real life where dragons may not be in fact actual dragons. You see it's a metaphor for putting oneself at unnecessary risk. I am therefore acting in as close a manner as I could in regards to the primary principle Hogwarts tries to instill in its students. Magic is fun, but one must never endanger one's health because of it. Thank you for your time, I hope you will consider my argument carefully."

With that final appeal on their commonsense, the gong rang and Harry walked off the field. There was much booing and hissing accompanying his steady and calm pace, but Harry kept his head high. They could force him on the field, but they couldn't force him to do jump through hoops. That's what a Keeper did. Not a Seeker.

* * *

It surprised nobody more than Harry to hear what the judges decided to give him. Because he had cast a spell and because the spell was years above his level and held for most of his time on the field without breaking off, they were forced to grade him accordingly. True, they docked him for not completing the task's goal, but also true, they had to take his prepared speech and grade him on that too which evened things out. From the five judges came the scores: 8, 9, 9, 10, 4. This, incidentally, put Harry in first place, tied with Krum.

"Bloody unbelievable," Harry muttered. "You'd think with a performance like mine, I'd get straight zeroes."

"Don't complain mate," Ron advised through a mouthful of bacon. "You got away with doing nothing!"

"Viktor should have been docked more," Hermione fumed. "The nerve of Karkaraff giving him a perfect score when his actions caused the loss of real dragon eggs. Why I could just wring his neck. Dragons are endangered! That why there are reserves and if there was any possibility of losing real eggs, the dragons should never have been introduced into the tournament to begin with. It's simply inexcusable."

"That was bad," Ron agreed. "Charlie's furious."

"As he should be!"

"It's really unfortunate," Harry said, taking his glasses off and scrubbing the bridge of his nose before covering a huge yawn. "I'd be happy to sign whatever petition you've got cooking in your brain right now Hermione, but I'm beat."

"Why's that? You didn't get injured like the other players and didn't do anything strenuous. Why are you tired?"

"I had to entertain the twins and introduce them to some of their idols right after the first task. They kept me out for bloody hours. I never knew how many pranks Sirius and Lupin did while at school. It was cool hearing more about my father, but keeping track of four rambunctious and hyper males takes its toll. Plus I ate something I shouldn't have and got turned into a canary."

Hermione laughed. Ron gaped at him.

"A canary?"

"Yeah and then Sirius turned into Snuffles and chased me around for a good hour before the twins gave me the antidote."

"Bloody hell, remind me not to eat anything they give me," Ron said.

"Would you actually heed the warning?" Hermione asked, pointedly staring at the food he was busy shoveling into his mouth.

"I think Lupin took a photo too," Harry moaned, thunking his head on the table. "I have no bloody luck whatsoever."

"Oh dear," Hermione mused. "You really are in trouble."

"Think it'll get into the Prophet?"

"Yes," Hermione said, unfolding her paper. "It appears Rita Skeeter somehow managed to record the event. She even has a picture."

"I'm going to get Lupin," Harry growled. "Stupid werewolf."

* * *

**Edit:** Apparently something similar has been done. I have not read the story, and won't until I finish this fic, but it might interest you. It's Unchampion by kb0.


	2. Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

**Here's to the Losers**

_A version you've never read of the Triwizard Tournament._

**Chapter 2: Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea**

"Can anybody tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?"

"Three, sir," Hermione answered, looking uncomfortable.

"You need to find another way to amuse yourself, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco sneered and stuffed his piece of paper inside his book.

"It's got to be his eye," Dean whispered to Seamus, watching Malfoy. He looked a little frightened by the concept of an all seeing eye.

Moody whipped around and glared at them, causing both boys to shrink into their seats. The professor harrumphed and turned his eyes in two different directions to study the class. The look was entirely comical but nobody dared to laugh.

"Malfoy," Mad-Eye barked. "Name one."

"The Imperius Curse," Draco said promptly, tossing a smug glance in Harry's direction.

"Ah, yes," said Moody with a wicked smile. "You'd know all about that one wouldn't you. Didn't your father walk away from his trial by claiming to be under the influence of the Imperius? Probably priming you on what to say if you ever get caught doing You-Know-Who's bidding. His little Death Eater in training, aren't you?"

Draco looked nonplussed but immediately recovered. "When my father hears about this—"

"You go ahead and tell your father. Tell him I'm keeping my eye on him."

Ron snickered, ducking behind his textbook when Moody glanced at him.

"Mr. Weasley, how can one tell if somebody is under the effects of the Imperius Curse?"

Ron sobered. "You can't, sir."

"Precisely, and there's the rub. How does one sort out the liars? Scores of witches and wizards, like Lucius Malfoy, avoided sentences at Azkaban because they claimed they were forced to do things. My opinion is that we let too many of them go, but you have to respect the Wizengamot verdicts however much you wish to go after the Death Eaters."

He shook himself and turned back to his desk, taking a swig from his flask and contemplating something before him. He put the flask away and picked up his wand. Draco, Dean, and others scooted back as far as their chairs would allow them.

Mad-Eye waved his wand over a spider in a glass jar, enlarging the spider as he maneuvered it out of the glass. Ron squeaked and shoved his chair back to match the others. Harry glanced at him and shook his head slightly. Ron didn't look comforted.

"The Ministry says I shouldn't show you these curses until you're sixth years, but Dumbledore, Lupin, and I have a different opinion of you. Today's lesson will demonstrate the Imperius on this spider… _imperio._"

* * *

"Brilliant," Ron croaked as they exited the class, "Completely utterly stark raving mad but brilliant nevertheless."

"I'm not comfortable with his teaching methods," Hermione said as she clomped down the stairs between the two boys. "He's got no right to perform the Unforgivables in a classroom."

"I like him," Harry said. "I think he's right in showing us the curses. How else are we going to know about them? I don't reckon I'll enjoy his class on the Killing Curse as I think he'll put me on the spot and I'd rather not draw attention to myself, but it can't be helped, I suppose."

"If he plans to perform the curse, I don't think I could stay," Hermione said looking a little green. "It was bad enough what he did to that poor spider today."

"Poor spider?" Ron gaped at Hermione. "Are you insane? Poor spider, indeed. There's no need to waste your sympathies on a spider, Hermione, they're bloody ugly creepy bugs."

"Arachnids."

"Whatever."

Peeves blew raspberries at the trio as they walked down the corridor. He somehow got a _Potter, Stinks _button and changed it to _Potter, Really Stinks_. It kept flashing annoyingly in Harry's line of vision.

"Peeves, get out of here," Ron snapped, pulling his wand out.

"Oooo, scary, Weazzies got a wandy," Peeves chortled. "I'm so scared."

Harry had a sudden idea. "Peeves. What would you do for a case of dung bombs."

"Ugh, Harry, how could you?" Hermione gasped, thinking of all the shampoo she'd have to order so she could clean the smell out of her hair.

Peeves tilted his head, examining Harry. "Potty'd give Peevesy dung bombs? What's the catch?"

"I need you to do a little spying for me. If you can tell me something useful about the second task the case is yours."

"Could I throw them at you?"

"Well I couldn't really stink until you did, now could I?" Harry asked.

* * *

When McGonagall told him he had to have a date to the Yule Ball, Harry about died. His face flamed a red so bright it rivaled the collective blushing power of the Weasleys. He had a crush on a certain girl, but wasn't sure he could ask her out. Every time he saw her he made a baboon out of himself. Dating was hard and asking the girl out was the hardest part. Harry had a mind to write Dumbledore and demand he institute classes on the subject, but figured he shouldn't waste his time knowing as he did how Albus would respond – with a wink and a nudge and an offer of a lemon drop. Decidedly unhelpful.

So when Harry ran into Cho Chang at the top of the Owlery with a week to spare he plucked up the nerve to ask her out. Her response was unhappily a negative, having already accepted another's proposal. That, Harry decided was that. Next time he'd pluck up the courage and ask right away… because he hadn't, his choices were now much more dismal.

A tentative outreach to Hermione was rebuffed, she too had a date already. In fact most of the girls in his year already had dates, which surprised Harry. He thought all the rest of the boys were dragging their feet like he was. Ron even had a date with Padma, from Ravenclaw. When Harry looked at the girls in third year from Gryffindor, he shuddered. The only possible acceptable one was Ginny and she still squeaked like a mouse around him, which meant Harry had to look elsewhere and fast.

He was complaining over hot chocolate one night to Dobby in the kitchens about the fiasco he landed himself in and Dobby was very eager to help. In fact he recommended one girl immediately as she too frequented the kitchens a lot.

Apparently the girls in her year from her house picked on her dreadfully. The house elves did what they could to recover her things from the belongings of others, but it was a constant battle.

Harry felt bad for the girl and wondered about how bad she could be if everybody picked on her. He was a little afraid of being seen with Miss Lovegood, but he was in dire need and so agreed to let Dobby arranged things with the young Ravenclaw.

When Harry met a pretty petite blonde dressed in a pink and silver dress, that sort of reminded him of a Christmas tree, he was relieved. She didn't look like a troll and she wasn't blushing bright red from a massive crush on him. She even appeared normal, except for her slightly protruding blue eyes.

It made him wonder why everybody called her Looney. Then she opened her mouth and Harry understood… she was the one who talked about bizarre fictitious creatures, something that Hermione was always complaining about, but she made him laugh and really at times like these that's what Harry needed most.

"Let's face the music and dance," Harry suggested, holding out his arm.

Luna laughed and took it saying, "You are too smooth for a sphinx, Harry."

That made Harry feel warm and fuzzy on the inside, kind of like how he felt when he drank a toasty Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. He proudly escorted her above to the Great Hall where the dance was located.

The opening dance number showed that they both had two left feet which cracked them up and landed them in a heap on the floor. Harry was as red as a Christmas ornament, Luna noted. He wondered how she kept her cool and remained unembarrassed. It'd be nice to have that gift and he told her as much. She smiled prettily and helped him up off the ground.

They took a break out in the gardens and crossed paths with Hagrid and Olympe. Hagrid was doing a bad job at wooing her, which made Harry uncomfortable to witness.

"I just knew ye were like me," Hagrid said gruffly, holding Madame Maxime's hand. "It was my mother. I don't remember her much, she disappeared when I was too young to remember her. Not very good maternal instincts, ye know. Me, dad did what he could but whenever he gave me trouble I stuck him up on top of the cupboards. I miss him."

"I em zorry to 'ear that."

"What about you, what side of the family did you get it on?"

"I beg your pardon? Get what?"

"Was it your mum or dad?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Maxime huffed and stood up trying to escape, but Hagrid caught her wrist.

"Don't go. I never met another one before."

Maxime gave him a chilly glare. "Excusez-moi!"

"Ye know, a half-giant. I just want to talk to ye. I understand if I'm not yer type, but please, don't go."

"I em just big boned!"

Luna took Harry's hand, brushed a small bug off his shoulder, and pulled him away with a muttered reflection on the Ministry's evil plots against other magical beings. Harry was quiet as he digested what he found out about Hagrid and Olympe. It certainly gave him pause. Not about Hagrid of course, who was as gentle as ever, but it explained his fascination with dangerous creatures.

The news however, gave him an insight into the French Headmistress. She clearly was hiding her background for a reason… perhaps because she possessed giant sympathies, a weakness Voldemort had preyed on before in others in the past… and maybe in the present too?

Somehow Rita Skeeter found out about the incident and it appeared in the next edition of the Prophet, freezing all communication between Maxime and Hagrid permanently.

* * *

"Do you think this is a good idea?" Hermione asked for the sixth time since leaving the common room.

Ron nudged her with his elbow. "Quiet, do you want everyone to hear us?"

"This cloak is not big enough for the three of us anymore," Harry groused, elbowing Ron to shut him up. "How else are we to figure out who put my name in the Goblet of Fire unless we do a little investigating. We discussed this now be quiet and pay attention."

They rounded the corner and waited by the teacher's lounge for someone to open the door. When Professor McGonagall swept out, the trio snuck in with nobody the wiser. Mad-Eye and Snape rested by the fireplace. Mad-Eye took a sip of his drink and let out a little laugh.

"It's a pity you gave yourself up, I would have enjoyed hunting you down Severus."

Snape glanced up from the stack of parchment in his lap and sneered, "You wouldn't have won, Alastor."

"I don't know about that, my record with catching dark witches and wizards is pretty much unbeatable."

"Didn't Bellatrix LeStrange slip through your fingers? And who gave you that wooden leg and carved up your pretty face?"

"And who was it that saw to it that half of Azkaban's cells were occupied by fugitive Death Eaters?"

"The point to all of this?"

"Just making conversation, Snape."

"I can't believe Dumbledore hired you as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I know more about it than you do. My training is far more specialized than the rudimentary slash and grab you possess."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Mad-Eye said softly. "You'd like to be in charge of Harry's DADA training. Make him too soft to face the Dark Lord."

"You-Know-Who is dead," Snape said flatly.

"I think otherwise," Moody replied. "I think he's just biding his time. I don't know how or where, but I've got a feeling he'll be back. Potter needs special training. Killing Potter has got to be You-Know-Who's primary goal. Reassert his power and glory."

"By killing a boy?" Snape derided, scratching his right arm. "If You-Know-Who came back surely he'd have more important things to do than pursue a teenager. Even if it is Potter."

"Speaking of Potter, what did you think of his efforts in the first task?"

"I think Miss Granger prepped that speech of his. I also think he's being an idiot, but that's nothing new. If he wants to fail, let him. It would do wonders for that ego of his and tarnish his fame at the same time."

"Perhaps he'll figure out what the second task is and be ready for it."

"Unlikely," Snape dismissed. "He didn't get the egg and the other champions have had weeks to figure it out and start training for what's coming."

"The boy doesn't need training to do the task well. He just needs gillyweed."

"He just needs brains and talent," Snape returned, glancing down at his papers and marking a large T for Troll on the right hand corner. "Two things which he lacks."

* * *

Peeves sprang up through the floor in the Gryffindor common room. His sudden appearance caused several girls to scream which made him cackle in glee before he zeroed in on Harry and his friends.

"I got what you wanted Potter."

"Excellent," Harry replied, flicking his wand and muttering a summoning charm. "Tell me."

Peeves watched as a case of dung bombs floated out from the boys' dormitories and smiled. "Krum and Fleur are focusing on the lake. Every day at different times they're jumping in and either swimming or practicing dives. Cedric is learning how to cast an air bubble charm in the library."

"Anything else I should know?" Harry asked.

"The eggs sing underwater. I didn't catch what they said, but that's how the champions figured out the second task was the Black Lake."

"Thank you, Peeves. Here's your case of dung bombs as promised."

"Oh goody, goody, goody…" Peeves grabbed it and disappeared.

"There are all sorts of things in the Black Lake, Harry," Hermione said as soon as she cast a privacy ward. "There's merpeople, and grindylows, and kelpies."

"Not to mention the Giant Squid," Ron inserted absently. "Hey, Hermione, can you help me with my potion's essay? I don't want to get another T. Mum would have my hide and I don't fancy another howler."

"Well I don't fancy another practical lesson with Mad-Eye, but I still have to go don't I?" Hermione groused. "Do your own homework, Ron. I'm drafting a petition to take to Professor Moody."

"I could help you, Hermione," Harry offered. "It's really not that hard."

"Hah!" Hermione grumped. "Easy for you to say, you're the teacher's pet, but I for one am tired of the Imperius Curse and I don't fancy being under the Cruciatus Curse."

* * *

Every day after that, Harry made two trips. In the early morning he crept down to the kitchens to get a bucket of fish. Soon afterwards he could be seen going down to the lake and meeting with the Giant Squid.

A large tentacle waved out of the water as Harry maneuvered over the rocks and other debris to get to the lake edge.

"Hello there, Devil," Harry greeted, waving his wand and creating a cushy seat. "How are you this morning?"

The tentacle slapped the water a few times. It sort of resembled Morse Code, the Muggle method of transmitting information through a series of on-off tones and patterns, but included another element of water height. If the height was high it meant Devil was happy. If it was low it usually meant something was wrong. Today the water was low.

"What's wrong, Devil?" Harry asked, taking one of his fish and tossing it to the Giant Squid.

The tentacle snatched it from the air and both fish and tentacle disappeared under the water as it ate. It reappeared immediately and slapped the water a few times in an agitated manner.

"The merpeople are encroaching on your territory again are they?" Harry guessed, tossing another fish.

A few slaps indicated a negative. Harry frowned, trying to puzzle it out. "Is it something to do with the task later today?"

The slapping got more excited, which meant yes. Harry fed the Giant Squid several more fish.

"I wonder what it is the officials are doing. We're not going to face deep sea creatures or anything are we?"

One slap. No.

"I wish Hermione was here, she'd have an idea of what to ask, but I'm not sure what you're trying to say. How about I promise you a nice whale of a meal if you can find a way to help me later today?"

Several tentacles whipped out of the water and did a merry dance. Harry laughed. "Right then, see you later, Devil."

* * *

Out in the middle of the Black Lake later that very day, Harry watched dispassionately as Fleur, Krum, and Cedric struggled out of their warm clothes, revealing bathing suits beneath. He didn't envy them their dips into the cold water. Harry's plans were relatively minor for the event. He patted his pocket feeling the shrunken objects inside. Everything was still there.

"The second task will start on my mark," Bagman told them, his voice echoing a bit from the sonorous charm he'd cast moments ago. "The champions will have just one hour to recover what's been taken from them. On the count of three then, one… two…_three_!"

Three champions dived immediately on the shrill of the whistle while Harry pulled out of his pocket a tiny stool, a box, and a stick. With his wand he unshrunk them revealing them for what they really were: a tackle fishing box and a fishing pole.

"Is your idea to catch your missing item with a hook, Potter?" Draco laughed, using his wand to flick water at Harry. Inside of responding, Harry put up a cone of silence and reflection which kept other objects from being thrown at him and blocked out the crowd.

He did in fact plan to fish for what was missing. It gave him the appearance of doing something, when in fact he was doing nothing. If he caught what he was looking for then great, but if not, he could always buy its replacement come summertime with a trip to Diagon Alley and Gringotts.

Oh, he figured his spells would earn him a few points, but overall they had to give him a much lower score than before because he wasn't going to explain his methods. Harry yawned. He had an hour to kill, unfortunately sleeping was out of the question. Getting up early for a month was finally catching up to him.

Harry hooked the baby grindylow to his line and cast it into the water. Nothing happened for the first forty-five minutes until sparks began to fly out of the water in the distance. Officials raced off to help one of the champions which was revealed to be Fleur Delacour. Harry let his cone fade out so he could hear what was going on. She was shaking and crying and demanding to know what would happen to her baby sister. He felt bad for her, it was her unfortunate luck to have a person taken into the lake. Harry hoped his object was the map or his invisibility cloak, he couldn't imagine leaving a person down there.

Sixteen minutes later, Cedric Diggory popped up in the water yards from the platform, helping Cho Chang swim toward everybody. That's when Harry knew it wasn't some priceless object of his parents in the water waiting for him to rescue it, it was a person.

He glanced up at the crowd scanning for familiar faces. Ron and Hermione watched him grimly from the Gryffindor section and he breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he was wrong… but then he checked the Ravenclaw section and saw that Luna was nowhere to be seen.

Five minutes later, Krum roared to the surface, his partial shark transfiguration rippling back into his stark chiseled features. He lugged a young man behind him with wet curly black hair and a beaky nose. Clearly it was his best friend from Durmstrang.

Harry knew he had to do something, so he tossed a few more dead grindylows into the water. A tentacle snatched them up, indicating Devil was nearby.

"Devil, where are they? Can you find them?"

A couple of slaps splashed huge waves of water over the platform, drenching everybody including the three drying champions and their two retrieved hostages. Several girls shrieked while boys sucked in large gulps of air and shuddered dramatically.

Minutes later, Devil shoved two wet and gasping blond girls at Harry, who caught them and gently set them on the platform. He dumped the rest of his grindylows into the water, which made the Giant Squid happy. With a final wave of his tentacle he disappeared back into the deep blue water.

Fleur gaped at Harry and then charged him. She covered his cheeks in kisses, thanking him profusely for saving her sister before grabbing the young girl and whisking her off to Madam Pomfrey for a once over.

Luna looked over at Harry with a grin and said, "That was fun. When do you think we could visit the merpeople again? Do you think they'd invite us over for tea? That would make an excellent article for the Quibbler, _n'est pas_?

* * *

The judges reflected the general stupidity of the wizarding world and gave the following marks to the champions, baffling Harry to no end.

Fleur received twenty-five points. She got credit for her bubblehead charm, but lost points because she couldn't face off against a whole swarm of grindylows and didn't rescue her sister herself.

Cedric got forty-seven points. He earned them on his bubblehead charm, his speed in the water, and for being the first back with his hostage. However he didn't have to face anything in the water except a run-in with Moaning Myrtle who leered at him in a way that makes him long for a hot shower while dreading it at the same time.

Viktor earned forty points. His partial human transfiguration both earned and docked him points. He came back second with his hostage and managed to escape a kelpie and a hungry Giant Squid without causing harm to himself or his sleeping friend.

Harry on the other hand found himself the unhappy recipient of forty-five points. He neither went into the water nor performed any great spells other than the cone of silence and reflection to keep nuisances like Draco off his back. He brought his hostage back third and he didn't even do it himself. Really the Giant Squid should have gotten all the credit.

Of course with the way the judges worded it, they made Harry sound heroic and clever for befriending another sentient creature and using that bond to bring back both his own and another's hostage when in reality he just couldn't believe that Dumbledore would be so stupid as to use real human hostages in the second task and leave them with a sometimes friendly colony of merpeople.

His score meant he was tied in first place with Cedric and that was totally unbelievable. Talk about favoritism.

* * *

**Note:** Anybody dressing up for Deathly Hallows in November? What are you planning to be? I want to be Fleur Delacour.

If you're also looking to go as Fleur or a Beauxbatons student you should check out **Ms. Vendetta Millnery** on Etsy. She makes beautiful Beauxbatons hats like that from the movie _Goblet of Fire_, and they look so professional, it's wicked. She is running a coupon for an additional 5% off the hat right now - the code is **inkyproductions** which you'll write in the comment space during checkout and she'll refund it back to you. That on top of her current sale price (which is $20 off the normal price) makes it a darn good deal because I saw online somewhere a person try to make their own and they invested something like $87 in it and their hat is not as nice looking. So save yourself the hassle and get one of hers! lol :) That's what I'm doing.

**Link to her store:** http:/ /www. etsy. com / shop/ msvendettamillinery (take out spaces)

**P.S. **Oh and I got another message letting me know about another Triwizard Tournament fic where Harry refuses to compete. It's called Harry Potter and the Champion's Champion by  
DriftWood1965. I haven't read it but I promise to when I'm done.

**P.P.S.** My dress for Fleur just came in and it's so gorgeous! I love it. It's not like the movie, but I thought it was sufficiently pretty and school-girly at the same time to work. I will need to update my Fleur Costume post with pictures... Right now it just shows the images of the dress that I got. Check it out:

http: / / www. literatureyoungadultfiction .com/ harry-potter-costume-fleur-delacour-beauxbatons-student/ (just take out spaces)


	3. Oops There Goes Another Rubber TreePlant

**Here's to the Losers**

_A version you've never read of the Triwizard Tournament._

**Chapter 3: Oops There Goes Another Rubber Tree Plant**

When Harry saw Karkaroff in the castle after hours striding down the stairs towards the dungeons on the Marauders Map he grabbed his invisibility cloak and hurried down to snake country. He had to know what was going on – how did Snape know Karkaroff? He was about to find out.

Through the thick door to Snape's office, Harry could hear Karkaroff yelling at Snape. Snape's responses were softer, but equally tense. Their words were too garbled to make anything out. Harry was certain it was due to a spell. It was too bad Snape had probably cast the privacy ward because Harry was sure his finite incantarum would have cancelled out one done by Karkaroff otherwise.

Determined not to leave the spot where he was standing until the door opened and or the ward was taken down, Harry forgot to watch the corridor. Draco Malfoy and his two goons had rounded the corner. In fact, Goyle crashed right into Harry who grunted before he could stop himself.

"What was that?" Malfoy demanded, staring suspiciously at the spot where Harry had been. He pulled out his wand as Harry crawled like a crab backwards toward the way the Slytherins had come.

"It felt like I ran into someone," Goyle grunted, waving his fat hands toward the stone wall.

Crabbe joined him and tried snagging things lower than Goyle. Harry was surprised Crabbe had enough brain cells to consider doing something as smart as that. Malfoy appeared to think the same as he watched his two friends do their strange dance movements.

"Oh for Salazar's sake," Malfoy sneered, waving his wand. "Have you two forgotten you're wizards?" A few more spells splashed against the walls and floor.

"Sorry boss," Goyle muttered, scratching the back of his neck before taking out his short fat wand and copying Malfoy.

Crabbe looked confused and then took out his wand to do the same… he ended up casting bubbles instead of a detection spell. Malfoy and Goyle laughed. Crabbe turned bright red in embarrassment.

Suddenly the door slammed open to Snape's office. Karkaroff had his left-hand sleeve pulled up and was waving it under Snape's nose.

"Do you see? Do you see?" Karkaroff cried out. "It's never been this clear, never since –"

"Karkaroff, we're done here," Snape said deadly softly from deep within his office.

"You must have noticed, how could you miss it?" he demanded, angry and worried.

"Enough," Snape declared. "Get out."

Karkaroff turned around and noticing the wide-eyed stares of Malfoy and the other two barked, "Vat are you vree looking vat? Vat are you doing down here? Are you spying?"

Snape appeared in the doorway and glowered at his students. "They're mine, Karkaroff. I will deal with them. Go now and don't return."

Affronted, Karkaroff spun on his heel and marched past Harry up the stairs. Harry noticed him rubbing at his arm in a worried manner and Harry knew what was there. It was so clear now… Karkaroff was a Death Eater. He had once worked with Snape, which is how he knew for sure Snape had been one too.

"You better explain yourself and fast Draco," Snape hissed softly, drawing Harry's attention back to the quartet. "Why were you skulking around my office? Did you hear anything?"

Draco shook his head. "We heard nothing, sir. The three of us were coming down for our usual meeting with you when Goyle tripped over something… or someone. After that we tried to figure out who was there but found nothing."

Snape's head snapped up at this and Harry could have sworn he was looking right at him. Harry forced himself to stop breathing and even though his throat was desperately dry, he didn't swallow.

"I see," Snape said quietly before ushering the boys inside his office. "Let's get to work Mr. Malfoy. Your father is paying me well for these defense lessons, you'd best have done your practice."

"It's hard to clear my mind. I did what you said, but I find myself less and less focused when I do it."

As Snape shut the door, Harry heard him reply, "There are plenty of other methods. We will try those."

Then the privacy ward was back in place and Harry couldn't hear a thing. He breathed in relief and hurried back up to the Gryffindor common room.

* * *

Harry watched Hermione make a chart. Their top four suspects were written along the top and under each name was a list of things that were extremely suspicious.

Under Snape was the following: greasy git (Ron's contribution), Death Eater turncoat (Harry insisted this get listed though Hermione wrote neatly underneath, Dumbledore trusts him in an effort to cancel Harry's point), and a measurable grudge against Harry and Harry's father (reluctantly Hermione agreed to this one).

Under Mad-Eye Moody there was: fanatical hatred of Death Eaters (the boys heartily disagreed with this but as Hermione was in charge of the chart, it stayed), the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher (Ron figured the odds made this reasonably a sure bet), his teaching methods (another one of Hermione's which Harry felt was as ludicrous as S.P.E.W.)

Maxime had little. There was the half-giant thing and the knowledge that she was hiding this fact for a reason (possibly because Voldemort fed her giant propaganda or more probably as Hermione noted because of the bigotry that followed Skeeter's article.)

Karkaroff's column was noticeably paltry in comparison to the others as he remained out of the castle most of the time and only ever spoke with the Heads, Officials, and Krum. All they had was Headmaster of Durmstrang, a school with a marked fondness for the Dark Arts, and that he always seemed to dock Harry points in the tournament (something that still irked Ron to no end, but then Harry dropped the bombshell he'd just learned...that Karkaroff was a released Death Eater… that made Ron's day and shocked Hermione into silence.)

* * *

"Hey Luna," Harry said, stepping up beside her as she was pacing the hallway outside the Great Hall where dinner was just starting.

"Oh hey Harry," she replied. "Thanks again for taking me to the ball, I had a wonderful time."

"Me too," he said, a small blush creeping into his cheeks before he coughed and changed the subject. "So, what are you doing outside the Great Hall? Don't you want to go eat?"

She looked at him and smiled. "I will, don't worry Harry. I'm just working off a charming little hex by one of my year mates."

Harry's eyes popped in his head. "What?"

"Sue-Ellen cursed me to walk four thousand steps before entering the Great Hall. I'm on two-thousand-six-hundred-and-three."

"Why haven't you gone to a teacher?" Harry demanded. "Or Madam Pomfrey. Surely one of them could cancel the curse."

"I need the exercise," Luna said with a shrug. "Besides what good will it do? Sue-Ellen and her friends will just get more creative and the curses will be worse than something as minor as walking."

Harry shook his head in disbelief and anger. "Why haven't your canceled it yourself? Let me."

Luna kept walking as Harry aimed his wand at her feet. "Because I needed the exercise."

"Did you even try to remove it?" Harry demanded before hitting her with a standard curse breaker spell.

She immediately stopped walking and stared down at her shoes. "No," she answered in a small voice. "If they knew I could break it they would have done something worse. Perhaps something I couldn't break." She looked up with wide sad blue eyes.

"That's awful," Harry said. "That's really bad Luna. You have to talk to Professor Flitwick. He's the head of your House. Surely he'd help you out."

"He made it worse actually. I went to him when I was a firstie and Sue-Ellen just made it harder to pin anything on her and she gets all her friends to corroborate her story."

"I could talk to them," Harry offered with a growl and a glare through the large doorway at the Ravenclaw table. "I could make them stop."

"That's sweet of you, Harry, but I have to handle this myself."

Harry turned back to her. "But you aren't handling it. You're letting them get away with it and they deserve to be punished. Come on," he said, grabbing her wrist.

Luna protested weakly as he dragged her through the Great Hall. Many heads turned to watch their progess between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. Harry skidded to a halt in front of Sue-Ellen and her friends. Luna tried to pull away, but Harry just glared at her too and tightened his grip.

"Harry," Sue-Ellen squeaked, her ears turning pink. "How are you?"

"I'm feeling pretty angry actually," Harry stated calmly, giving Luna's trembling wrist a squeeze.

"Oh?" she asked. "You could sit with us," she offered with a pretty smile and patted the chair next to her.

Harry shook his head. "No, thank you. I just released Luna from a curse she said you placed on her. Would you know anything about that?"

Sue-Ellen's eyes widen before she shot daggers at Luna with her gaze. "Looney is just making up stories again. She does that you know."

Harry bristled. "And you preyed on that didn't you? You thought nobody would believe her. Well I do and I know that this wasn't the first time you've done something like this. I want it to stop. Whatever you thought you could get away with ends here. Do you hear me?"

Sue-Ellen puffed up in anger, opened her mouth to speak when Harry smacked her with a silencer. He leaned right up in her face and whispered menacingly, "If Luna so much as has a bad day again for the rest of the year I'm going to take this to Professor Dumbledore. It won't be funny when you're expelled, will it?"

He straightened then and said to Luna. "Let's go, Luna. You're sitting with us at Gryffindor."

"Okay, Harry," she said meekly, sneaking a glance behind her at Sue-Ellen who was rigid with rage and yelling silently at her friends to figure out how to break the hex. She ducked in closer to Harry, who wrapped an arm around her protectively and pulled her forward, giving her his usual seat before sitting down.

* * *

"Pronounced as one letter, and written with three, two letters there are, and two only in me. I'm double, I'm single, I'm black, blue, and gray, I'm read from both ends, and the same either way. What am I?"

Harry laughed at the Sphinx and replied. "Must I answer it if I don't want to get past you?"

The Sphinx tilted her head. "I do not understand. Do you not want to reach the center of the maze first?"

Harry shook his head, lowering his wand to his side. "Not really. The honor and glory should go to one of the older students. This is their only shot to compete. If they permanently reinstate the tournament like they've hinted at then I'll get another shot in my seventh year to compete. Then it will be my time, but not now. Now is their time."

"How very noble of you," the Sphinx said, relaxing and folding herself up into a lazy sprawled position. "You are not like other wizards I have come across in my years."

Harry laughed again. "No I don't imagine I am. I probably am the first and only wizard you will have met that survived a Killing Curse."

She perked up and smiled toothily at him. "A Killing Curse, then you must be the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry blinked. "Am I really that famous?"

This time the Sphinx laughed. "You have no idea, young wizard. You're a walking legend. I have even heard whispers that you might be Merlin's descendant. Nobody knows your exploits but they all talk about them. It's an honor to meet you."

"Er… you too…" he said, scratching his neck. "So tell me a bit about sphinxes. We haven't covered you yet in my classes."

"You can say it; I know the Ministry of Magic has classified me as a beast and not a being. Sphinxes tend to be violent."

Harry gulped. "Oh…"

She chuckled. "Do not worry little Harry. I have no plans to eat you… at least for now. You are a mystery, wrapped in a puzzle, and surrounded by an enigma. Sphinxes love all these things you know. You are officially my new favorite toy."

"Toy?"

"Better than string… or mice… though you are trapped in this maze like a lab mouse. I love mice too. Very tasty."

"Gee, look at the time," Harry said glancing down at his wrist where his waterlogged watch sat silent.

Suddenly a high pitched female scream rent the night air, raising the hair on the back of Harry's neck.

"That came from behind you," Harry said, stating the obvious.

The Sphinx blinked her eyes slowly. "Yes, the Beauxbaton champion came this way earlier. She is past me."

"I need to find her."

"I need the answer to the riddle about what danger lies ahead of you on this path."

"Er… what was it again?"

She smiled, her grin toothy. "Pronounced as one letter, and written with three, two letters there are, and two only in me. I'm double, I'm single, I'm black, blue, and gray, I'm read from both ends, and the same either way. What am I?"

Harry grimaced. "Where's Hermione when I need her? I will never get this."

"Try," the Sphinx commanded. "Go line by line."

"It's a word that sounds like a letter in the alphabet but is written with three letters. Two of the letters are the same. There are a lot of words that could be… Bee for instance… but surely there isn't a magical strain of bees up ahead? See, maybe? But I've already walked through that glittery illusion of being upside down so again it doesn't seem likely. Vee – there could be a fork in the path up ahead, but how is that dangerous?" Harry shook his head to clear his buzzing thoughts. "What's the second line again?"

"I'm double, I'm single, I'm black, blue, and gray, I'm read from both ends, and the same either way."

"Sounds like a bruise, and I should know, I've sported quite a few of them in my day, but bruise is not three letters. Let me think." Harry thought about what she had said and finally got it when he realized it was a palindrome which eliminated a lot of words. "The answer is eye."

"Correct." The Sphinx removed herself from the path. "Go find your friend, Harry Potter. Do take care to remember why I gave you that riddle."

"Yeah, thanks," Harry muttered as he raced up ahead, wondering how an eye could be dangerous.

Red lights flashed above the tops of the hedges just to the left and Harry quickly veered in that direction. When he came to a dead end Harry cussed a blue streak and shot the hedge with the strongest fire spell he knew and watched in satisfaction as a big hole was burned into the center. It was quickly regrowing. There wasn't much time before it completely closed up again. Harry shoved himself through, ignoring the branches and leaves getting in his way.

A shudder went through the leaves on both sides of him. It was almost as if the hedge had come alive in protest at Harry's cheating maneuver. A low wind swept by Harry and fog began to grow heavy at his feet. A creaking, groaning moan trembled in the air and just like that the hedges on either side of him became to move and warp. Harry ran forward, desperate to escape the morphing plant before it trapped him inside a green coffin.

In his haste he tripped over a root. Only it wasn't a root. It was Fleur and the hedge was sucking her into its base, slowly wrapping itself around her like the coils of a snake. Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her out, breaking off pieces of the hedge, but like Devil's Snare, the more he tried to free her the more of her it devoured.

"Incendio maxima," Harry shouted, firing at the root system.

The roots quickly burned and disintegrated, but that wasn't all that caught on fire. Turns out the hedges' weak point was the roots and the fire spread fast going outward and upward. The fog burned up but the smoke left behind was just as bad and seared his lungs. Harry cast a Bubblehead charm on Fleur and himself, picked her up and juggled her dead weight as he shuffled down the path.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" yelled Cedric's voice. "WHAT THE HELL D'YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?

And then Harry heard Krum's voice.

"Crucio!"

Cedric began screaming. Harry nearly dropped Fleur. He put her down carefully and cast a quick protection ward, praying it would protect her from fire. He shot up another series of sparks, wondering where the hell the patrolling professors were.

Harry found Cedric and Krum around the corner. Krum had a weird glazed look to his eyes. Cedric was scrambling for his wand a few feet away when Krum hit him with the Cruciatus again. Harry's hand shook as he aimed it at Krum's back.

"Stupefy!"

Krum fell over immediately, shaking the ground in his passing.

"Merlin's left nut," Cedric rasped, curling up into a fetal position before forcing himself to stretch out. "He should be disqualified. Durmstrang…"

"He was bewitched. Somebody put him under the Imperius curse."

"Some game, huh?" Cedric snarled, pushing himself up into a sitting position, coughing as the smoke grew thicker around them.

Harry cast a Bubblehead charm on Cedric just as the boy grabbed his wand.

"Thanks, Harry," Cedric wheezed, before casting sparks in the air above Krum.

"Two down… champions and Unforgivables," Harry noted.

"In that case, I gladly give you the Cup," Cedric joked. "We really should get out of here, the hedges are about to go up in flames. Wonder how they caught fire? They're supposed to be fire resistant."

"I accidentally on purpose set them on fire trying to free Fleur. It was trying to eat her."

"Bummer," Cedric noted as they ran down the path together. "Still that's a lot of fire resistant hedge between us and the ones you set on fire, so maybe it'll just fizzle out?"

"Maybe," Harry agreed, panting.

They reached a fork and the two split up going separate ways. Harry went right and nearly shouted his delight. There shining in the center of a circular clearing was the Triwizard Cup. He'd done it. He'd made it first.

Just then a giant spider appeared in front of him. An acromantula actually, not just any old spider. Damn it. Harry shot spells at it as fast as he could think them up but nothing got past the thick hide. One snap of the pinchers and Harry was caught in the grips of the beast screaming his head off as the venom coursed through his leg.

He vaguely heard Cedric's voice casting a spell. Suddenly he was on the ground, the wind knocked out of him, as the acromantula was transfigured into a harmless stuffed version of itself. His injured leg lay crumpled beneath him, sending fiery bursts of agony up his spine. He fought for breath, but his chest felt too constricted.

"Ouch," Harry said when he caught his breath. He almost collapsed again when he stood and sighed in defeat. "You win, Cedric. There's no way I can get to the cup now. Take it. Go on, take it."

Cedric didn't move. He just looked at Harry before turning to look at the cup. Longing was written all over Cedric's face at the sight of the cup but then he frowned. Turning back to Harry he took a deep breath.

"You take it, Harry. You deserve it more. You saved me from Krum. Fleur from the hedge. You take it. You should win."

"That's stupid," Harry growled. "It's about who can get there first. I clearly can't, so you go on and take it."

"No."

Harry waved his wand at the cup. "Accio cup."

Nothing happened. Harry hadn't figured it would. He smiled grimly at Cedric. "I tried. Clearly it doesn't work that way. Your turn to try to get the cup."

But just as Harry said that the cup leapt into the air and hurtled toward the two boys. Cedric ducked instinctively but Harry had no chance to move and even if he had he couldn't have with his bad leg. The cup slammed into his stomach causing a deeply disturbing pulling sensation to occur behind his navel. Harry could not push the cup away, in fact once his hands touched it, it was like he was glued to the thing. Wind howled in his ears and colors swirled in a vomit-inducing way as he was ripped from the maze and dropped ungracefully who knows where.

* * *

**Notes: **If you're looking for a great Slytherin Harry read try On the Way to Greatness. It's in my favorites.


	4. I Don't Stand a Ghost of a Chance with U

**Here's to the Losers**

_A version you've never read of the Triwizard Tournament._

**Chapter 4: I Don't Stand a Ghost of a Chance with You**

Harry was disoriented and in extreme pain. His face was planted facedown in the dirt and it was a struggle to move into a sitting position. He sat there gripping his wand tightly and looked around.

Wherever he was, it was very dark. There was hardly any light at all as it was a new moon. Shadows danced in haunting flickers from a fire somewhere nearby. Harry jumped when he glanced up and saw a menacing figure hovering holding a scythe. He let out a breath when he realized it was a statue.

What kind of place was this? Gingerly Harry got to his feet, using the statue to pull himself upright. Standing he could see more. The fire was burning under a bubbling cauldron a short distance away. Around him were other statues and plain slabs of rock.

It was a graveyard and the grave Harry stood on belonged to Tom Riddle Sr. (1905–1943) … who could only be Voldemort's father. Harry swallowed back fear. In his gut he knew what was about to happen and in his panicked mind the thought repeated – RUN!

And then it was too late. Pain flooded Harry's scar dropping him to his knees which only intensified the agony shooting through him. It was a level of pain Harry had never felt before in his life. He was hardly conscious through it and only the will to survive kept his fingers locked around his wand. He had learned his lesson well in the Chamber of Secrets… never drop your wand… not unless you want to die.

A short cloaked man hauled him upright and grabbed at his wand. Harry held on for dear life until he was jabbed in the leg by the man. A hoot of triumph echoed in Harry's ears as he was divested of his wand. He was dragged backwards roughly but Harry wasn't about to give in… not yet, not ever… Dudley and his friends had taught him to keep fighting back because if you gave up it was over and they had you.

"Hurry," hissed a cold voice from a small black bundle of robes as the potion in the cauldron began to spark yellow as if sunlight danced across the surface of it.

Harry kicked the man in the stomach with his good leg. The wizard stumbled backwards losing his cloak in the process. It was Peter Pettigrew! Harry sneered at the rat faced wizard.

"I should have known it was you, Wormtail," he growled, forcing himself to stand and lurch after the older wizard.

Wormtail scrambled to his feet and fumbled for his wand, pulling it out just in time to push it against Harry's chest stopping him cold. "Aye, it's me, and soon my Master will be returned to full health all thanks to you Harry."

"Never," Harry snapped, springing into action.

"Imperius!" Wormtail shouted.

A sweet pleasant feeling washed over Harry for a second before he shook it off. He slammed a fist into Wormtail's face, surprising the wizard into dropping his wand. Then Harry was on top of him pummeling him as viciously as he was ever beaten during Harry Hunting.

Blood spurted from Wormtail's nose and Harry smashed it in again. The skin of his knuckles split open from the repeated pounding. The thick wet sound of flesh meeting flesh repeated over and over until Harry was exhausted. Hauling a mangled Wormtail upright Harry slammed him back to the ground dazing the wizard further.

As satisfying as beating the stuffing out of Wormtail was Harry had to find his wand. Voldemort would never rely on just one wizard to get the job done. A furious search revealed it in the tangled grasses beside the cauldron and the bundle of black robes.

When he bent to pick it up Harry's scar flared again. He grabbed it and shuffled backwards away from the moving bundle.

"Wormtail you must hurry. I need to be submerged into the potion before it crystallizes."

It sounded like Voldemort. Harry did not want to see what he looked like under the robes. He did not want that image scarred in his retinas. The bundle looked like the shape of a baby and Harry could imagine just what horrid misshapen thing lay struggling inside.

Harry glanced around. Surprisingly the graveyard was silent. Where were the other Death Eaters? Shouldn't they be here to help their Master? Nothing moved and Harry knew the three of them were alone.

Harry aimed his wand at Voldemort's tiny body and said firmly… "Imperius."

It was odd to be at this side of the spell, Harry thought as his mind latched unto Voldemort's. Everything was sharper, more in focused. He knew he must work quickly because as weak as Voldemort was in this state Harry would not be able to hold the spell for long.

"What is the potion?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Potter. It will give me a body. Make me stronger. Make me immortal once more."

"All you need is to submerge yourself in the potion?"

"Stupid boy of course it isn't. It's a ritual. My servant will…"

Harry was shoved back into himself. His will influenced Voldemort no more, but Harry got the information he had wanted.

"What are you doing Potter?" Voldemort hissed angrily.

"Beating you at your own game," Harry replied calmly as he marched to Pettigrew and cast the imperius for the second time in his life. "You will perform the ritual for me and not for Voldemort. You will do it correctly and without hesitation. You will do it now."

"Yes, Master," Wormtail said blankly.

"NO!" Voldemort shouted, struggling harder under the robes.

"You must submerge yourself into the cauldron. You must breathe it in and keep doing it even as you feel like you're choking on it."

"All right."

Harry and Wormtail moved to the cauldron which was just starting to crystallize. Harry climbed in and dropped under the surface just as it began to glitter like diamonds. He breathed it in and it felt like fire burning his esophagus. He kept breathing in the potion, surprised that while he felt like gagging on it his lungs didn't burn with the need for oxygen.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

The ground shuddered. Minutes passed and it went on so long that Harry lost track of time until a fine trickle of dust dropped into the cauldron. The diamond surface cracked and turned a poisonous blue color.

Now breathing in the potion felt like ice and it was solidifying making it harder and harder to breathe. All the while Voldemort ranted… it was a low hum of noise inside the cauldron. Harry knew a peace unlike any he had felt before. It was surprising and it made him sleepy.

"Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will strengthen your master."

A hand dropped into the cauldron startling Harry. He glanced up and saw a gaping wound at the end of Wormtail's arm and felt like hurling. Wormtail's eyes were vacant and calm. Harry's thoughts were a whirlwind as the potion shifted into the red scale.

Voldemort shouted now and though the sound was muffled Harry clearly heard. "Get back Wormtail. Do not touch me. Wormtail. Wormtail. WORMTAIL!"

Pettigrew was back above the cauldron sprinkling something off the edge of a knife. His low voice intoned… "Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will give life to your foe."

The minute the blood hit the potion Harry's eyes were blinded by pure white light. He clenched them tight and felt himself expand. Something in him shook loose and the Harry pain that had lingered in Harry's scar disappeared. He became as steam, as white and as pure as the potion. He drifted up and out of the cauldron before solidifying back on the ground.

Voldemort screamed bloody murder, long wailing noises. He appeared to have lost all reason, but Harry was not concerned. He looked at his new body. It was much like his old but he was more muscular and toned. He could see in a wider range of colors than the standard prism of the rainbow. Colors he had no names for, they were unique and seductive. His hearing picked up a soft rustle in the grass and a low voice hissing in Parseltongue.

"My wand Wormtail," Harry demanded.

Wormtail handed it to him without hesitation, his eyes still glazed by the imperius curse. Harry slashed his wand immediately upon receiving it cutting open Voldemort's giant pet snake releasing an unholy howl before the snake burnt to ash before him.

Spells Harry had never learned crowded in his mind. Without thinking Harry conjured a set of three mirrors and gazed as his naked form. His once solid black hair had a wide stripe of red sticking up through it. He fingered it with curiosity. A long red, black, and yellow design decorated his back. It was a phoenix.

"Interesting," Harry murmured, turning one way and the next admiring his new tattoo. "I wonder what it means."

Voldemort continued to wail and Harry lost patience. "Wormtail, bury Voldemort in his father's grave."

"Yes, Master."

Harry watched him do it with a grave expression. He should have been horrified by his actions. He should have been, but he was not. This was the pragmatic choice. The right choice. Voldemort must die and here in this resting spot, nobody would know he was there. After all who would guess Voldemort was a half-blood and that this muggle grave was his father's?

When Wormtail was done, Harry ordered him to clear everything up and to erase all traces of magic. Wormtail did so obediently and Harry used the time to cast a silent spell at the ground of Riddles' grave. Grass shot up from the earth and the newly turned dirt firmed making the spot indistinguishable from any other grave.

Harry then transfigured a rock into a brilliant set of scarlet robes and donned them. He summoned his glasses only to discover he didn't need them and banished them to the void. He did the same to the mirrors and waited patiently for Wormtail to return.

Pettigrew was pale and wane upon his return and Harry knew he could save him by any number of means. He was not deserving.

"Tell me something, Wormtail," Harry stated softly.

"Anything Master."

"Who was Voldemort's inside man at Hogwarts?"

"Barty Crouch Jr."

"Isn't he dead?"

"No, he's Polyjuiced as Professor Moody."

"Hmm…" Harry's expression was grim for a moment, but then he cleared it. "It is time for you to die Wormtail."

Pettigrew twitched but then said in his mild tone. "Yes Master."

"But before you do, I want you to apparate to the Ministry and confess all your crimes, excluding what happened tonight. Of tonight you will not breathe a word to anyone. Nor will you look anyone in the eyes, lest they read your thoughts. Go now."

Wormtail apparated leaving Harry alone in the graveyard. The Triwizard Cup glinted slightly to the right. Harry shot his hand out and it leapt to his fingers. He was whisked back to the grounds of Hogwarts with the standard navel pulling. It felt like flying and as this contradistinction weighed on him, Harry threw back his head and laughed.

* * *

AN: One chapter left! :)


	5. Give Me this Last Encore

**Here's to the Losers**

_A version you've never read of the Triwizard Tournament._

**Chapter 5: Give Me this Last Encore**

When Harry arrived back at the stadium for the Triwizard Tournament he felt far removed from what was happening. He'd been mobbed by the students and professors and officials. Aurors were heavily present as they had been summoned immediately upon Harry's disappearing act.

Dumbledore was speaking to him, something about explosions ripping apart different areas of Britain all at the same time, including at Hogwarts, but Harry barely heard him as his focus was suddenly acute and directed all at one person who was limping toward him as the professor was called away by the Minister who had just arrived.

"It's all right, son, I've got you… come on… hospital wing…" Moody said gruffly, grabbing Harry's arm and directing him away from the frightened crowd.

"I don't need to go to the hospital wing. I'm fine," Harry replied neutrally, following the fake Moody without hesitation. He didn't want people to see what was coming next. Least of all Dumbledore.

"You need to lie down…Come on now…" Moody commanded, pushing Harry into the Great Hall and frog marching him up the winding shifting staircases.

"Of course, professor, you're probably right. Thanks for getting me away from all of that." Harry waved mildly behind him indicating the masses back at the stadium.

Moody looked down at him and smiled a sickly smile. Harry wondered how he never caught on to the perverse glee the Death Eater took in past incidences. It was an expression he had worn often. "What happened Harry?"

Harry shrugged, entering quietly into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. "Cup was a Portkey."

Harry smiled darkly when he heard the soft snick of the door locking behind them. He maneuvered further into the room and toward the large cabinet that had once held a boggart in third year. The thunk thunk of the fake Moody's gait echoed loudly in the room. Harry quivered in anticipation, all his sense on high alert.

"The Dark Lord was there? What happened there?"

Harry nodded keeping his back to the professor as he slowly slipped his wand into his hand. He flexed his grip on the hilt and let out a deep breath. He waited.

"Come. Come. Tell me. Did the Death Eaters show up? Who was there?"

"All of them that could be there. All that mattered, except one. The most important one."

"Who had the distinction of the Dark Lord's favor?"

"Why you, Barty Crouch," Harry said with a hint of surprise. "You were his inside man, were you not?"

At that Harry spun around and slash his wand. Unformed wild magic whipped through his wand and crackled in the air. Moody never stood a chance as the nameless spell tore through him. His bones exploded outward from the joints, breaking through the skin at unsightly angles. Barty slumped to the floor howling in pain.

Harry stalked closer and leaned over. "I must thank you, Barty. Without your efforts I never could have been at the right spot at the right time. It was you, wasn't it, who called the cup to me in the maze? I knew it had not been me. The magic reacted too belatedly to be my spell.

"Without you I never would have made it to that graveyard. It should comfort you as you die that the goal for the evening had been achieved. The potion was used. The ritual performed. Voldemort sadly was not the one to benefit."

"No…" Barty whispered horrified. His face started to bubble and Harry knew the polyjuice would be wearing off soon.

"I do have to wonder what the potion would have done for him. Restore him to his own body perhaps. But I already had my own body and so the potion did what it was truly meant to do – change a mortal into an immortal. Bone of the father. Flesh of the servant. Blood of the enemy. All to give strength, power, and eternal life. I as of yet, do not know what I am, but guessing from things I would say I am part phoenix. Should be useful… the ability to recover from Killing Curses or perhaps… that was a gift I always possessed as I performed such a miracle in my infancy. Maybe now my phoenix abilities are manifested in new ways. Time will tell. I will figure it out."

"No…" Barty repeated, fainter, his breath wheezing loudly. His face was back to his normal countenance again. "You could never do that. You never take action. I kept trying to force you, to give you hints, but you ignored them all. You couldn't do what you're saying."

Harry scoffed. "I don't want eternal glory. There was no reason to compete in a silly school tournament. Now life or death matches with my greatest enemy? I try not to lose those."

"No, no, no," Barty cried.

Harry grinned briefly at him. "Yes. I think I'm going to like the results of your efforts. I just wanted you to know before you died. Good bye Barty."

The door banged open as Barty exhaled for the last time and in poured Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall armed and ready for battle. They halted at seeing Harry crouched before a gruesome body of a young man.

"What is going on here?" Snape sneered, gripping his wand reflexively.

Harry shook his head and widened his eyes, employing quickly a look he'd used often on Petunia Dursley throughout the years. "Polyjuice. One minute this was Professor Moody and the next he started screaming as his skin began bubbling. I think he went through a terrible withdrawal or perhaps brewed the potion incorrectly. Many of his bones erupted through his skin. It was terrible. I didn't know what to do."

The Sorting Hat knew what it was talking about when it wanted to put him in Slytherin.

Dumbledore looked at Harry disquietly and then back at the body. "It is probably for the best. Had it not happened who knows what he would have done to you. Do you know who this is, Harry?"

"He said his name was Barty Crouch, sir. What would he want with me?"

"Don't you know?"

"Was he a Death Eater? I had a run in with Voldemort. I think I killed him. He died like Professor Quirrell did, turning to ash beneath my hands."

"Was he possessing somebody?" Dumbledore inquired fixedly.

Harry shook his head then stopped and nodded slowly. "Perhaps. Maybe. I don't know. Wormtail was there. He was brewing a potion—"

Snape snorted and then did something truly scary… he laughed like a maniac. "That fat stupid pitiful Squib was brewing for the Dark Lord? No wonder the whole thing went wrong."

"Severus," Dumbledore admonished.

McGonagall's lips twitched. She too found it hilarious, well as hilarious as a situation like this could be—which was hardly at all—it was serious. She schooled her features and lowered her wand.

Harry noted the other two still held theirs at the ready. That told him he needed to do more to convince them of his story. It shouldn't be hard. Dumbledore was notoriously forgiving, just take how he dealt with Severus… the thought caught Harry off guard. It didn't sound like him. He uneasily shoved it aside and focused on the task at hand. If ever he was to prove the Sorting Hat right about being perfect for Slytherin now was the time.

"Yes, well," Harry shrugged. "Nevertheless that's what he was doing. Voldemort was talking about the potion as if it would create a body for him. It required bone of the father, flesh of the servant, blood of the enemy—me to be exact—in order to do this. When Wormtail was distracted I rushed to the pile of robes Voldemort was lying in and really he wasn't human though he was the shape of a baby. I touch him and he screamed and burned away."

"Wormtail didn't even properly get you out of the way to keep you from interfering?" Snape questioned.

"I think he tried but he couldn't because of the Life Debt he owed me. I think the plan had been to kill me and use all of my blood or at least a good portion."

Thank Merlin for Ronald Weasley's crash course in Life Debts at the end of year feast back in third year. It was a good bluff.

"But you stopped it and him," McGonagall said with a proud smile.

"For now. Until the next time he tries to regain his powers."

Dumbledore smiled at this. "There's where I think I have good news, Harry. All over Britain occurred several simultaneous explosions of great magnitude. The Muggles are claiming acts of terrorism and well they wouldn't be wrong in the strictest of sense as Voldemort is the greatest terrorist of them all, but I think they were holdings of great importance to Voldemort that simply ceased to exist when you killed Voldemort so directly. If he wasn't in a body then you must have perished his soul."

Harry nodded pretending that it all made sense to him. He yawned. "Really Professors it's been a long night and if the immediate threat is over I think I'd like to sleep and discuss things again in the morning."

'Of course Harry, my dear boy," Dumbledore said. "Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey."

Harry sighed disgustedly. "I hate the hospital wing."

"I know your pain," he answered with a wink.

* * *

"Hi Harry," Luna said the next morning sitting in the unoccupied chair by his hospital bed. "You're looking chipper."

Harry actually felt anything but chipper which surprised him considering how well he felt before coming under Madam Pomfrey's care. Not that he blamed the healer, because when one was dealing with unknown potions meant for the darkest of dark lords, things were bound to cock up at some point.

But instead of saying all that he kept it simple with a dry, "You don't say," while rubbing his forehead and grimacing. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Because your scar is healing," she said lightly, touching the lightning bolt shape beneath the fringe of his hair. It burned under her touch.

"Evidence points to the contrary," he said softly, watching her abstracted expression as she lost herself in her imaginary world.

"You have a lock of red hair," Luna noted, giving it a gentle tug. "What on earth did you transfigure it for? Is it a new trend? Should I change a lock of my own hair? Perhaps blue if it's supposed to be about House pride."

"Well if you followed suit how could the rest of Hogwarts not want to join in the fun?"

Luna smiled. "Exactly what I was thinking!" She took out her wand and grabbed a hank of hair. She touched it once and it went bubble gum pink. She frowned slightly, shook her wand, and tapped her hair again. This time it turned bright blue and with a satisfied smile she put her wand away. "Now we match."

"Hey Luna," Harry said, "What's the Quibbler said about the terrorist attacks across Britain that happened last night?"

Luna brightened. "We have several eyewitnesses who are quite positive they heard You-Know-Who wailing at these locations. They think he was starting an acapella group that featured heavily on dark ambient music stylings."

Harry laughed robustly causing him to ache all over. Every time he tried to speak he laughed harder, until he was doubled up gasping for breath. A few minutes later when he had himself under control he tried speaking again. "Thank you for that Luna."

"We are a humor based magazine, but don't mistake that to mean we don't talk about real news with real facts."

"Then remind me when I want to buy some concert tickets to see Voldy and the Eaters live that no matter how cool the rest of the wizarding world thinks them, they had their beginnings killing and torturing and maiming."

"Promise. I'm not into that scene either. I much prefer the Weird Sisters and Screaming Banshees."

They were quiet together for a little while, each happy to sit in the other's presence.

"I'm glad you survived, Harry," Luna said after some more time had passed. She laid her hand on top of his and squeezed. "It would have been awful if You-Know-Who had managed to kill you."

Reflexively, Harry started, "I don't know what you're talking about—"

Luna shook her head. "It's like what happened at the end of all your years, Harry. Everybody knows what you've done. It's always the worst kept secret."

Harry shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry."

She squeezed his hand again and got up. "Don't worry about it. When you're back on your feet again look me up."

Harry caught her hand as she started to walk away. Luna glanced back in surprise, her protuberant silvery grey eyes widened. "The last Hogsmeade visit is the day after tomorrow to celebrate the end of the Tournament. Will you go with me?"

"Will you buy me a puffskin?"

"A what?" Harry asked, confused.

"A puffskin," she repeated. "I've always wanted one, but dad always said they looked too much like dust bunnies to him."

"Oh…" Harry said dumbly. "Well if you want one I don't see why not."

"Then I'd be delighted to go."

The smile on Harry's face didn't fade until long after Luna had left. He'd buy her a hundred puffskins, whatever they were, if that meant he could have a hundred dates with her.

* * *

Harry sat with Hermione and Ron at lunch the following day, absently listening to them bicker with one another. His attention was all on the Ravenclaw girl sitting two tables over eating her banana pudding first. When she pulled out the latest Quibbler edition and began reading upside down, he chuckled quietly.

"Oh look!" Ron exclaimed as hundreds of owls flooded the Great Hall.

They flew to students from all three schools dropping newspapers like miniature bombs. Food splashed up from plates, cups fell over, feathers rained down and one unexpecting student caught the Weasley owl in his stomach. Fred and George laughed, high-fiving each other before pulling Errol off Lee Jordan.

Headlines proclaimed in English, French, and Bulgarian Sirius Black's exoneration. The whole story was retold from beginning to end with the surprising twist of Peter Pettigrew showing up on the Ministry's doorstep and turning himself in. Hermione wondered why he did it after all this time. Ron couldn't care less about why Wormtail decided to come forward but was happy that he did. In his mind it meant that Harry was finally leaving his ruddy muggle aunt and uncle and getting a real wizarding home of his own.

The Great Hall doors banged open and in walked the man of the hour himself. Students gasped in shock. The ones who hadn't yet read the newspapers being circled through the student body like contraband shrieked in horror as they recognized the wizard who was once proclaimed to be the most terrible wizard alive after Voldemort… and if they thought about it for a minute… Bellatrix too… making him really the third scariest.

"Hi Pup!" Sirius shouted, waving excitedly at Harry. He was wearing professor robes, which Hermione immediately noticed and commented upon. Some students tried to hex him, but Sirius laughed them all off and sauntered up the aisle to the Head table where Dumbledore stood and clapped him on the back.

"Students and guests," Dumbledore began loudly, hushing the hysteria, "In light of recent events I would like to present to you Hogwarts' newest staff member. Recently exonerated Sirius Black has agreed to replace the previous Defense Against the Darks Arts professor. I do believe he will have a lot to teach all of you. Now back to your regularly scheduled mischief."

Harry clapped long and hard for Sirius, his maniac grin matched by the Marauder. Snape was doomed. Doomed. DOOMED! Heh. Heh. Heh.

* * *

Harry was just saying goodbye to the Durstrang and Beauxbatons champions along with the rest of Hogwarts when Fawkes flash fired into existence and landed on his shoulder. The foreign champions looked startled, but Harry who was used to odd things happening merely smiled and gave Fawkes a light caress feeling the soft feathers against his skin. Fawkes crooned and nipped Harry's ear.

Cedric came over to say goodbye to Fleur and Krum as well. He gave Fawkes a curious glance and raised an eyebrow at Harry. "How come you got Dumbledore's phoenix, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "Beats me. The bird just showed up as I was telling Krum we had to hold a Seekers match this summer. My godfather said he could arrange everything and after seeing Krum's Wronski Feint at the Quidditch World Cup, I've been dying to challenge you on the pitch."

"I'd like to join you guys," Cedric said eagerly. "I play Seeker for Hufflepuff," he explained to Fleur and Krum. Fleur just rolled her eyes and moved away after declaring huffily about boys and their broomsticks. Fawkes hooted in commiseration and pecked Harry on the head.

"Great!" Harry said, pushing Fawkes' beak from his hair. "Cedric's the only Seeker to beat me at Hogwarts."

Cedric shook his head. "I still think Hooch should have called for a rematch." He turned to Krum, "A couple dozen dementors swarmed the field and Harry fell from 50 stories high off his broomstick. It wasn't fair."

Krum's eyes rounded, he turned to Harry. "I know about dementors. Our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor vent over them in our British crash course prior to coming here. He said only vizards who had experience true horror vould pass out in their presence. Vas it Lord Vullduhmort?"

Harry nodded and it was Cedric's turn to look dumbfounded. "Yeah, I heard him killing my mum and her screaming. Luckily there's a charm you can cast to keep them away. I used one at the end of the year to save my godfather from a swarm of them. That was before they declared him to be innocent."

"Blimey Harry," Cedric croaked. "Now I definitely want that rematch."

"This summer then?" Harry asked.

"Ov course," Krum replied. "If you are any good, I haff contacts in the International Quidditch League. I could get you audition for a national team."

"Excellent!" Cedric and Harry shouted at once and then laughed. Fawkes chirped and flashed away leaving the boys to scheme and figure out their plans.

* * *

That summer everything began to change for Harry. He moved in with his godfather, Sirius Black. The two had great fun in their cottage out in the middle of nowhere. There was plenty of grounds to romp on. Sirius was teaching Harry about becoming an animagus and when Harry got too tired to transform even a toe they played Frisbee. Sirius liked the fanged ones best.

His research into the graveyard potion proved futile. It was too obscure. Harry only pursued it when the dark moods began to creep up on him. He couldn't figure out why it happened, but knew it traced back to his impulsive decision to jump into the potion himself. He didn't want to turn into another Dark Lord, but one couldn't be too careful.

In the meantime, Fawkes was a constant companion. He built a new nesting ground in Harry's room. Dumbledore explained that it was time for Fawkes to find a new champion to champion. The fact that the phoenix had picked Harry was a great relief to the old wizard who had had deep misgivings at the end of the third task.

What Dumbledore didn't know was that Harry had developed another language affinity. He could talk to phoenixes, well at least to Fawkes, as easily as he did to snakes. Fawkes said this was because of the red lock of hair amidst Harry's black locks. It was the sign of the fire-bird. It meant he would one day be able to transform into a phoenix himself.

This relieved Harry greatly. He wasn't evil. Just highly pragmatic like a phoenix. Life and death were a balance… and speaking of balance… Luna visited often that summer making sure to keep Harry as off balanced as possible. She once called him a basilisk slayer, which made him laugh, until it came to bite him in the arse years down the road and then he had to wonder how she knew.

Together they shared their first kiss… and their first hickeys. Kissing was one of Harry's favorite things to do. When he couldn't kiss Luna he contented himself with talking to her over the Floo. He got her that puffskin.

Tomorrow he'd be meeting Cedric and Krum at the Ballycastle Bats Stadium for their Seeker Challenge. Several Seekers from Quidditch teams the world over were joining them in what would become a favorite annual tradition. The Daily Prophet planned to cover the event and Luna said she'd go support him in the stands.

Life was perfect.

Well for now.

**The End.**


End file.
